


The Healer of the Serpent

by MsLokiLaufeyson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Dom Loki, Dom!Loki, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Loki is just controlling, Love, Slytherin, The OFC loves it, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:11:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLokiLaufeyson/pseuds/MsLokiLaufeyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki secretly loved being in Slytherin. Even though Odin had told him time and time again that Slytherin was nothing but a house of traitors, Loki loved to love Slytherin to spite Odin. He had grown so much in his seven years, he was said to be the brightest wizard of his age (which really angered most Ravenclaws.)</p><p>Florence had wanted to be in Ravenclaw. She was intelligent, she was original, she loved the Grey Lady. Somehow, she ended up in Slytherin. She didn't feel like she was cunning, or resourceful,  or ambitious. Her family was. As far as they could trace the family back, it was a straight line of Slytherins. All successful, all cut-throat, all fiercely great witch and wizards. She didn't feel like a great witch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This first chapter is the prologue, written from Loki's point of view, but the rest of the story will be written in the third person point of view.  
> I hope you all like the story! Please leave a kudos, comment, or hit that subscribe button if you do! Happy reading!

When I sat down on that stool, and McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on my head I had foolishly hoped against hope that I would be put into Gryffindor. That’s what my father was in, that is what my brother was in.That was the way it was in my family. Time after time the men were put in Gryffindor. It was the true test of character. You were either brave like the lion, or a manipulative, lying creature like the snake. Somehow I had already known what house I was going to be in. 

The pressure on my shoulders was excruciating. That was the only way to describe it. I could feel my older brother’s eyes on me from across the hall, could practically hear my father’s worry and judgement, could see the other students waiting rather impatiently to eat their dinner after everyone got sorted. 

Of course, my mother would be over the moon if I was put in Ravenclaw. That was her house, and to her, nothing was more important than education, than intelligence. In some ways, my father agreed with her, but he would go to his grave defending and supporting Gryffindor. Mother tried to tell me that they’d be proud of me no matter what house I was put in and that houses didn’t matter. I assumed that, yes, Mother would be proud of me, but I knew. I just knew that Father would stray away from me even more if I were to be in Slytherin. Even Hufflepuff would be teetering on the edge. We were a pureblood family with generation after generation of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Change was unacceptable in Odin’s eyes. 

My eyes searched the place. The Great Hall was an enormous room that housed a huge cluster of people all shoved into four different tables. There were plates in front of each person, but no food. The gold everywhere did wonders on soothing me, but it didn’t put me completely at peace. Peace wouldn’t occur until I was in the Gryffindor common room.

I could feel all of the student’s and teacher’s eyes boring into me. Out of all of them, though, Thor wasn’t hard to find. He was staring at me, and the doubt ridden all over his face made me want to run away.

But no, as soon as the hat was put on the top of my head it shouted loudly, in a booming voice, “SLYTHERIN!” All of my nerves that were previously on fire, crashed down around me, like being plunged into a pool of ice cold water. I felt as if the sky was falling and there was nothing I could do about. Now Father would be disappointed in me, and he would probably start ignoring me, like I was a problem that could be avoided by not facing it. He was the most cowardly Gryffindor I had known. The Slytherin table exploded in applause and as I shuffled over to it, my head was slightly hung. I was upset and disappointed in myself, I should have tried harder to be in Gryffindor. Tried to be brave, in the place of cunning. I should have asked the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor, but I was too stupid. No wonder I wasn’t in Ravenclaw. The urge to cry rose to the surface, but I stamped it down. Men didn’t cry, that was for sure. If I cried in public my father would definitely disown me. I took my seat next to a pretty seventh year, and she patted my shoulder comfortingly. I assumed a similar situation had happened to her.

I looked to Thor and saw that he was looking down at his plate. He was a second year, and not much older than me. We had been pretty close up to this point, as close as two brothers could get, actually. We played together every night, and he even read with me at night, even though I knew he hated reading. I could feel that relationship dwindling away quickly. No doubt he was thinking about what to tell Father. Oh, how I wished he wouldn’t. Of course my parents would find out soon enough, but I didn’t want them to find out from Thor. The perfect noble son telling my parents that their dark son had been put in the house of villains.

I looked back up at the sorting ceremony and saw one of my classmates running to the Hufflepuff table, happy and unworried about what anyone thought of him. The last girl, tall for our age, walked up to the stool and sat down. The fear in her eyes was obvious and it was spreading to me. Why was she so scared? Was she going through the same thing as I was? Was she really shy? 

Her dark blue eyes found mine, then, in the sea of chaos all around us. The color was stark compared to the ghostly white of her face and the light brown of her hair. She swallowed, and I could feel her trying to ground herself through me. I smiled a very acute smile at her, and it seemed to be all she needed, because the color returned to her cheeks and the life to her face. I heard the Sorting Hat declare in an unintelligible voice what house she was. 

I saw her, once again frowning, walk over to our table and plop down, her hair going over her eyes.


	2. Chapter One

“Now, it would seem that, once again, Mr. Odinson has proven himself the most knowledgeable among all of his empty minded peers, and has time after time, earned himself a heaping supply of extra credit.” Snape sneered out to the other seventh years, who had just witnessed Loki create a Alihotsy Draught at a level so high, several of the employees at the Ministry of Magic wouldn’t even be able to reproduce it. 

Loki smirked. Of course he had. He was thought to be the brightest wizard of his age, (and was the brightest wizard of his age) he didn’t make mistakes, everything he did was concise, perfect, planned. Loki didn’t allow himself room for mistakes. He liked to be the best of the best, the smartest person in the room, the most intimidating. He had worked his entire Hogwarts career building up his reputation and seeing that it stayed intact. He wanted to be viewed as cold, cut-throat, and not someone to mess with. 

It wasn’t that Loki was such a hateful and spiteful person. He truthfully wasn’t hateful, and he was spiteful to only Odin. It was just that he wanted to be powerful, and he didn’t like other people very much. Loki needed a specific reputation to succeed and to be left alone. It was only a month into his final year at Hogwarts and he had already had an internship at a potions shop lined up, so that he could immediately get a jumpstart on his career. He wanted nothing to be left to chance. Loki had a strategic plan for everything, and he followed this plan always. He knew that everything given to him was because he had earned it. Thor was the brother to have things handed to him on a golden platter. Not him. 

Well, nevertheless, Loki liked silver more anyway. 

He felt, rather than saw, Snape motion that class was over. Gathering his things, he quickly made his way to the library to pick up one of his favorite books. It was a book about wizard’s chess, and how the same type of strategy applied in the game was applied to the modern wizarding business world. It might have not been the most entertaining books ever written, but it showcased what tools he needed and how easy it was to move up in the world. All Loki was interested in doing was moving up, especially because it entailed manipulating people and studying them to see if they noticed. He loved learning about how people worked. 

Loki had read the book three times, and was here to reread it.

It was gone. 

Loki frowned. He had been looking forward to reading it all week. It had always been here. It had never been checked out. It had never been gone. It was always in the same spot, the worn leather smiling warmly at him, inviting him to read it. 

Now it just...wasn’t there. 

Once again, anger flared his ugly head. Of course it wasn’t there. Why should he have expected it to be? It was the only thing he had been looking forward to, and it was gone. He should have known better. He should have known to not get excited. Everytime he got his hopes up, they came crashing down around him like this. He hated that everything he wanted he had to work for. 

Annoyed, he sat down at a table and pulled out a roll of parchment, working on an Alchemy paper he had wanted to get a headstart on. 

He didn’t know how long his quill was running across the paper, (he assumed it had been about twenty minutes,) when he heard a really loud ruckus coming from the front of the library. He rolled his eyes. What part of library didn’t first years understand? His eyes travelled up to the noisy intruders. 

It was Thor’s idiot friends, making their very loud way through the library. They were all bravado and no respect as they sauntered into the room. Thor was gone now, being a year older than Loki, as well as Hogun, but his other friends weren’t. Volstagg, Fandral, and Sif, the entire flamboyant group made a point to be noticed wherever they went. They were Gryffindors of course, like Thor, and stampeded into any place or situation they could, usually to most Slytherins’ behest. 

Loki loathed them and being in their insufferable presence. Everything that they were, he despised. He hated the way they just jumped into anything with no plan, all confrontation and no strategy. He hated the way the revelled in their achievements, forcing everyone to do the same. Loki believed that if someone won something or succeeded, they should keep it private, or only tell those close to them. 

Fandral caught Loki’s eye and before he could silently curse the blond, he and the other heathens were walking over to Loki, shoulders straight, noses up. 

“Silver tongue! If it isn’t Loki himself! Why, I haven’t seen you all year! It’s almost as if you are avoiding us!” Volstagg quite literally shouted to the Slytherin, attracting the attention of all in the library. 

Loki smirked. “Volstagg, do keep it down. While I know that you have never read a book in your life, some like peace and quiet to do so.” 

Volstagg laughed jovially. “Always a sharp wit. It’s a wonder you didn’t end up in Ravenclaw.” 

“Don’t be silly, Volstagg,” Fandral chimed in, “most Ravenclaws have a kind heart. Loki would never survive in Ravenclaw.” 

Sif giggled and Fandral grinned at her. 

Loki stared at the tall brunette, until she stopped giggling . “As much fun as this conversation is, and I am loving it,” Loki slurred, “don’t you have some first years to yell at?” 

The ginger chuckled deeply and hit Loki on the shoulder. “Sadly, all of the first years are in Transfiguration at the moment.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. If he didn’t play this conversation correctly, he could be stuck talking to the group all day long. “What about Quidditch? Aren’t you the seeker for Gryffindor this year, Fandral?” 

Fandral smiled with pride. “How very kind of you to remember, Loki, it was a huge honor to be selected as seeker. We are all yours, because fortunately, we already had practice today.” 

Volstagg took a seat next to Loki and the others in the group did the same. “So, Silver Tongue, what are your favorite classes this year? We are in Muggle Studies Two and we lov-” 

“There you are darling! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! We are going to be late!” A hand fell on Loki’s shoulder at that moment, squeezing gently. He looked up. 

He knew immediately who was standing above him when he saw those achingly sad, blue eyes. He hadn’t seen those eyes since the night he arrived at Hogwarts, but he hadn’t forgotten them or the girl they were attached to. Her face had gotten thinner since Loki had last seen it, her cheek and jaw bones jutting out. Her face was surrounded by long brown curls that cascaded down her back and the front of her robes. Her lips were large, puckered, and a light red that would make roses jealous. 

He stared up at her confused, and ready to tell her to get her hand off of him, when she spoke again. “Don’t you remember? We are studying for Arithmancy with the group in our common room. How could you forget?” 

Loki’s eyebrow shot straight up, but he nodded. “I’m sorry, I must have lost track of time writing my paper. Volstagg, Fandral, Sif, it was nice to see you. Send Hogun my regards.”

“Who is this, Loki? Thor would be very interested to see that you have found yourself a girlfriend,” Fandral drawled, going back to his normal arrogant and over confident demeanour. He looked the visitor up and down and she laughed. 

The girl, now quite literally on Loki’s arm, smiled in what appeared to be a warm manner. “I’m Florence Blanchard. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

As Florence held her hand out, Loki stared at her. She was a Blanchard. Odin hated the Blanchards. He thought that they were vile, disgusting creatures and a betrayal to the wizarding world. Florence’s father, Kenneth and Odin were sworn enemies, always trying to destroy one another. There were like day and night, one representing the polar opposite of the other, and the men were too caught up in their own prejudices to even fathom liking each other. Loki didn’t exactly understand Odin’s hatred for the family, but he did know that for centuries, they had a straight line of Slytherin descendents, dating back farther than anyone could remember. Most in the world thought that their family was directly descended from Salazar Slytherin himself. 

No one shook her hand, and when she pulled it back, Sif muttered something that sounded like, “Odin is going to find this very interesting.” 

Loki pulled on her arm and ushered her forward. “Come on. We must be going now.”

Loki let go of Florence’s arm as soon as they were out of the library. “What are you playing at?” Florence swallowed. “I was just trying to help you. From across the library you looked miserable. Then I saw that blonde Gryffindor sit down, and I assumed you needed an excuse to leave.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes. “What are _you_ talking about?”

He stepped forward, threateningly, and stared down at her. “Is there a reason that you decided to help me? Do you not know who I am?”

Florence laughed in Loki’s face. “Don’t flatter yourself there, big boy. Not everyone knows who you are, and not every Slytherin has an ulterior motive. Most of the time.”

He rolled his eyes. How did she not know who he was? “I’m Loki Odinson.” She looked confused. “My father is your father’s enemy.” 

She scoffed and turned around, her back to him. It looked like she was having an internal fight and then she turned back around with what looked like a warm smile on her face. “I have no idea what you are talking about. My father doesn’t share anything with me, and I honestly had no idea who you were before now.” 

Loki was slightly shocked. Although he tended to pay no mind to what Odin told him to do, the one thing his father had tried to instill in Loki’s head the minute he got sorted into Slytherin was to hate Florence’s family. Anytime he heard their last name, according to Odin, Loki was to pull out his wand and challenge them to a Wizard’s Duel. It didn’t matter what age gender they were, they needed to be challenged. Of course, Loki didn’t. He didn’t even pay much attention to the students around him, unless he was manipulating or using them. 

He was surprised, though, that Florence’s father, a Slytherin, hadn’t taught his daughter to hate the Odinsons.

“No matter on whether you knew me or not, now you do. And,” Loki smirked coldly, “though I appreciate your goal in trying to help me, I do believe you have created more of a mess than you intended. Upon your insisting that we were in a relationship, those Gryffindors sitting at that table have most likely already written a letter to my father informing him about our ‘forbidden love.’ If he knows, your father will know, and assuming that they truly hate each with the vigor that they have done a great job in expressing, we both will have a howler waiting for us tomorrow morning before we have time to eat our breakfast.”


End file.
